Fear No Evil
by Ceridwen
Summary: (AU Story) In Holland in 1938, a young Anthropolgy professor and a US embassy chief of security meet and build an unlikely friendship in the middle of Nazi occupation.


Sentinel FF: "Heading Into The Light"

**"Fear No Evil"**

[**by Ceridwen**][1]

**__**

**_"It happened so long ago. Had I not forced myself with all my mental strength to imprint upon my very young mind these thoughts, which I'm about to put down in print, they would have vanished from my memory long ago like the dust from the prairie."_**

**_"The Last Sunrise" by Harold Gordon_**

**__**

Blair Sandburg inserted the keys into the lock of the loft and opened the door. It wasn't an easy exercise with all the books he juggled in his arm. He pushed the door open and could already smell the aroma of Chinese hanging in the loft.

"Hey Jim, you're home!" he called out in surprise as he spotted his partner sitting on the couch in the living room, reading a magazine. "I thought you had this all-night stake-out going down today?"

Detective James Ellison looked up from his sports magazine and smiled at his young roommate. "Yeah, but the suspect showed up early and was stupid enough to do the drugs deal right there in his living room. We arrested everybody and Simon sent us home.

"That's great man. Did I miss anything?

"Na," Jim said and re-focussed his attention back on his magazine. "It all went down without any problems." Then he paused and looked up again. "Oh, by the way, there's a parcel for you." Jim said and pointed towards the kitchen bar. "Looks like a book or something.

Blair dropped his load onto the kitchen table and reached for the brown parcel. "Strange," he said. "I'm not expecting anything." Sandburg slowly unwrapped the brown paper box and pulled out a book. "Oh man." he whispered as he withdrew the book completely from it's wrapping and stopped behind the couch. "I can't believe this. He did it. He really did it.

"What is this? Who did what, Chief?" Jim asked and tilted his head to get a better look at the cover. "'The Last Sunshine'? Are you into novels now?

Blair shook his head. "No, Jim this isn't a novel. Well not just any novel." He flipped through the pages and a small smile hushed across his face. "You see this guy Michael came to see Naomi a few years ago. He told her that her uncle apparently helped him escape from Nazi Germany in the late 1930s together with her parents and he wanted to write a book about it." He handed the book to Jim. "Looks like he's actually done it!

Jim's hand brushed over the hard cover and he opened the first page. "There's a dedication and a picture." he said.

**__**

**_"To Blair Sandburg._**

**_As your world collapsed, you still found the strength to fight for what was right._**

**_May your memory live on forever."_**

__

Jim looked up at the young anthropologist. "'Blair Sandburg'?" he asked in surprise

Blair nodded. "Yeah, Naomi's uncle died in the concentration camps. We don't know much about the whole background story, just that he arranged for Naomi's father to escape to America on a boat, and Naomi found it an ideal tribute to name me after him." Then he pointed down below the dedication. "Look, there's a picture of him."

Jim's eyes wandered over the page and he gasped. "Blair .." he whispered in amazement. "He looked just like you!"

Blair nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I know. Spooky, isn't it? And guess what: he was an anthropology professor and I even came across some Sentinel-related research papers he wrote!" Then he turned around and walked towards his room. "Gives the idea of reincarnation a whole new meaning, doesn't it?"

Jim shook his head. "How about simple genetics?"

Blair laughed as he waved him off and walked towards his room. "Ah, you're boring, Jim!"

Jim laughed in response. "Yeah probably. Oh, by the way there's Chinese if you're hungry, Chief!" Jim called after him.

"Thanks, man, but I'm so beat right now, I'd fall asleep on the table. I'll go and crash and I see you in the morning, all right? And don't lose that book, man! I'm so dying to read it tomorrow!"

"No problem, buddy." Jim said as he turned his attention to the book.

He wasn't tired just yet and so he opened the first chapter and started to read.  


Chapter 1

_December 1938_

"You need not fear," the voice of the Dutch Prime Minister echoed over the radio in the library room of the American Embassy in Amsterdam. "We shall not be attacked by any of the countries fighting in this war. They have promised us this."

Colonel James Ellison shook his head and turned off the radio, causing the Cultural Attaché Peter Simmons to look up in surprise. "Colonel?" he asked the tall US Marine officer. "What's wrong?"

"The Prime Minister is wrong," Ellison said darkly. "There will be war. Germany will attack Holland and we will be overrun."

Simmons smiled and took another sip of his bourbon. "My dear Jim, I think you're taking this whole situation a bit too serious. The Ambassador was with the Prime Minister just this morning and confirmed that Germany has made it quite clear that they have absolutely no intention of invading Holland. And let's not forget that Holland has always remained neutral during the last wars. I appreciate your military thinking, but we're quite safe here."

Jim shook his head. "You're a fool, Peter." he said dryly. "By the end of the week, we'll have German troops knocking at our door. Hitler is not the type of man who will stop at Poland and France if he can get more countries under his control to ensure his power position in Europe. And believe me, we're next on his list."

Peter sighed. "Jim, I'm telling you you're overreacting. There is no way Hitler will do whatever some of our analysts suspect he is planning. I mean, nobody in their right minds believes him. He has neither the means nor the support of the people to carry out this great plan of his. Hitler is mad and reality will hit him sooner than you think."

Jim Ellison laughed. "Reality will hit *us* sooner than we think!  


At the other end of Amsterdam, Professor Blair Sandburg stood in front of a large auditorium at the Dutch National University. His eyes wandered from his Anthropology 101 notes up into the expecting eyes of his students."Okay, some of you have requested last time that we talk about the relationship between anthropology and the Nazi ideology today." He paused for a moment and watched as notebooks were opened and pens began to scribble away. "So, let's talk about it. It won't go into the Midterm exams, but I can see that the current political situation is on everybody's mind right now."

Blair cleared his throat and gripped the sides of the podium in front of him firmly.

"Let's look a bit at history first. Johann Gottfried von Herder first developed the concept of nationalism in his analysis of the influences of the French Enlightenment on Germany. According to this philosophy, the individual was "to work for the creation of a common community of nations governed by universal, rational law. As a German, Herder fiercely opposed this French influence on German culture and argued that "every nation carries within itself the standard of its own perfection, which can in no way be compared with that of others" These standards of perfection were based on "the national soul" which consisted of a community's "own language, art, literature, religion, customs, and laws"

Blair paused again before he continued.

"For years before Adolf Hitler became chancellor of Germany, he was obsessed with ideas about race. In his speeches and writings, Hitler spread his beliefs of racial "purity" and the superiority of the "Germanic race" or what he calls an Aryan "master race." He pronounced that his race must remain pure in order to one day take over the world. For Hitler, the ideal "Aryan" is blond, blue-eyed, and tall. When Hitler and the Nazis came to power a few years ago, these beliefs became the German government's ideology and are spread in publicly displayed posters, on the radio, in movies, in classrooms, and in newspapers. The Nazis are putting their ideology into practice with the support of German scientists who believed that the human race could be improved by limiting the reproduction of people considered "inferior."

Blair paused once more and then took a deep breath.

"From an cultural anthropological point of view, Hitler's regime utilises a craving for irrelevant excitement by personalities with weak ego in a system of seduction." He looked into the expectant eyes of his students and smiled. "In short, Ladies and Gentlemen, he's a twisted weirdo with a sick idea on a massive power trip."

The students laughed.

"This wasn't what you expected, I take it?" Blair asked into the faces of the students.

One student raised her hand. "Professor Sandburg, what do you think of Hitler?"

Blair shrugged. "What do I think? Sylvia, what I think isn't really important, but in my view, Hitler is a hysterical psychopath with an excessive need for recognition."

Another student raised his hand. "But Professor, what about the atrocities committed by the Nazis against the Jews?"

Blair sighed. "Well, they are only rumours, people. Okay? And if there is some truth in them, then I'm sure those responsible will be brought to justice soon enough."

"Is Hitler going to invade us?" a voice called from the back and suddenly the auditorium was filled with whispers and conversations.

"People! People!" Blair raised his hand in order to try and calm the class down. "Settle down, okay? You've all heard the Prime Minister last night. Germany is not going to attack Holland."

"But what if they do?"

"Then we all will eat Bratwurst and Sauerkraut for a while." Blair said in an attempt at lightening the atmosphere. "Now there's a cultural challenge for any anthropologist!"

The class laughed and Blair couldn't help but smile himself. "No seriously, people." he continued. "I think that anybody, including the German people will have enough brains to see that Hitler's ideas are deranged and impossible to carry out. The international community will not allow one country to terrorise its neighbours or its people and everything will be over before it even started." He smiled again. "Or it's Bratwurst all round."

The class laughed again and as it began to quiet down after a few minutes, a low female voice from the front row echoed thorough the new silence. "What about you Professor Sandburg?"

"What about me?" Blair asked.

"Well, you're Jewish. What would the Nazi's do to you?"

Blair shrugged. "I'm an American exchange lecturer. I doubt that they'd be that interested in foreigners." The anthropologist looked into the young girl's face. "Hitler and other Nazi leaders view the Jews not as a religious group, but as some sort of poisonous "race," which "lives off" the other races and weakens them. After Hitler took power, Nazi teachers in school classrooms began to apply the "principles" of racial science.They measured skull size and nose length, and recorded the colour of their pupils' hair and eyes to determine whether students belonged to the true "Aryan race."

He looked across the faces of his students. "Now even though this is just Anthro 101, I'm sure we can all agree that this is just ridiculous. Those theories are unfounded and I'm sure even Herr Hitler will realise soon that his theories don't add up and he'll disappear into the political night like so many before him."

He reached for his notes again and produced an evil grin. "And so I think, Ladies and Gentlemen, it is futile to hope that a German invasion will rescue you from the Mid-term exams next Friday."

The class groaned loudly, but Blair continued undistracted. "Chapters 1 to 23 are down for reviews, and unless Herr Hitler has other plans for the world, I will see you bright and early on Friday!"

That night Blair Sandburg woke up to the sound of explosions. Hitler had invaded Holland without warning and even though the Dutch army fought bravely for five days, they never stood a chance against Hitler's army and air force.

__

__

Chapter 2

Colonel Jim Ellison rubbed his temples tiredly as he stood at the large window of the American Ambassador's office and stared down into the street with disgust. A platoon of German soldiers were marching through Amsterdam, pinning anti-semitistic posters against shops and walls. No one could buy food unless they had a ration card. Dutch newspapers had been banned or severely censored and all radio sets had to be given up. Then there was the "curfew", which meant that no one was allowed on the streets after a certain time. At first this was fairly late, but gradually it was becoming earlier and earlier, until today, curfew was at six o'clock in the evening. In the distance Jim heard somebody calling his name and he snapped back into his immediate surroundings.

"I'm sorry, Sir?" he asked as he turned around and looked at the Ambassador.

"I said we have to consider evacuating American civilians from Holland, Colonel." Ambassador Rawlins said as he looked worriedly into Colonel Ellison's eyes. "We have to do it before it's too late, and I want you to co-ordinate the operation."

"How are we planning on evacuating everybody, Sir?" Jim asked.

Ambassador Rawlins reached for a file on his desk and opened it. "The USS Lutetia is destined to leave for New York early next week. I suggest we use the sea way to bring our people out. It would be the safest way." He handed the top sheet of the file over to Jim. "Begin to notify everybody alphabetically.

Jim swallowed hard and paused for a moment. Then he looked at Rawlins. "With all due respect, Sir." he said cautiously. "But wouldn't it be wiser to evacuate people by priority?"

"What do you mean, Colonel?"

"Well, Sir, I would suggest that we evacuate Jewish Americans first. They're the ones facing the biggest threat."

Rawlins shook his head. "No, Colonel, I don't think that's necessary. The Nazis won't touch any American citizens, Jewish or not. Alphabetically will suffice."

"And what about other people, Sir? Refugees who came here from Germany? Shouldn't we help them? Sir, I strongly recommend that "

"Americans alphabetically, Colonel Ellison!" Rawlins enforced and turned back at the folder in front of him. "We are an embassy here, Colonel, and not the bloody League of Nations. Dismissed."

"Yes, Sir." Jim said, turned around and walked out of the door. Outside, he almost bumped into the Cultural Attaché.

"Hey, what's up, Jim?" he asked. "You don't look too happy. What's the old man done now?"

"I need some fresh air, Peter." Jim said heavily and walked across the room to a small cupboard. Opening the door, he grabbed his coat and swung it over his shoulders. "I'm going for a drive."  


Jim had driven aimlessly through the night. His mind raced. The Ambassador was an idiot. Jim had quickly realised that after he was assigned as Military liaison to the Dutch Embassy a year ago. Not only did Rawlins not take any notice of his advice or his experience, he was also very quick in playing with the lives of the American civilians under his jurisdiction. The atrocities done to the Jews and other minorities in Germany and every other country under German control had reached Amsterdam a few months ago already and even though they were only rumours, Jim was not ready to stake anybody's life on it. He had spoken with several German soldiers from the command level and was not at all comfortable with their attitudes and believes.

The road in front of Jim made a small bend as he passed the Dutch National University campus. It was already late and most students had left the grounds. Ahead of him on the road stood an SS car blocking half of the road and half of the pavement. Several soldiers stood in a semicircle around a young man, who was obviously less than pleased to see them. His long, dark curly hair flew wildly around his face as he gestured at the commanding German officer in front of him. Jim slowed the car and extended his hearing into the direction of the small group.

"Hey man, let go of me!" the young man shouted and struggled against the hold on his arms. "You can't do that! I'm an American citizen, an exchange lecturer and I teach here!"

The commanding German officer in front of him didn't seem impressed. "Oberleutnant von Karlstein wants to speak with you."

"That's great man. Tell him that my office hours are between 9 and 11 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Other than that, he can write. Now let go of my arm."

The German soldier slowly walked closer to the young man and stopped in front of him, towering over the American. "You don't understand." he hissed as he pulled one of his leather gloves off. "This is not a request. And if you won't come peacefully, we will have to use force."

Jim moved his car beside the soldiers' and leaned out of the lowered window. "Gibt es hier ein Problem, Herr Hauptmann?" he asked in his best German.

The heads of the soldiers as well as Blair's snapped around and looked at him. Jim reached into his coat pocket and produced his Embassy ID. The German Hauptmann walked towards the car and inspected the papers.

"Colonel Ellison." he noted, looking at the diplomatic papers. "You are with the American Embassy, ja?"

Jim nodded. "That's correct, Sir." He then looked over at the young American still held by the soldiers. Jim's eyes caught sight of a stack of papers at the young man's feet and he noticed the name on the university ID attached to the strap of the American's leather bag. Ellison looked back at the Hauptmann. "I'm here to pick up Blair Sandburg for an appointment with Ambassador Rawlins. I'm sure you don't want to explain to the Ambassador why the Professor was delayed for his meeting with him?" Then he pointed at the men holding onto the young man. "Or why he had to be roughed up by four soldiers."

Blair's eyes went wide in confusion, but he recovered quickly and looked expectantly at the Germans in front of him.

The Hauptmann handed Jim's ID back to the tall Marine. "Of course not, Colonel. It seems that not only Oberleutnant von Karlstein appreciates this young man's work. I will advise my superiours that Mr. Sandburg is a guest at the American Embassy today." He turned back at Blair. "And we will simply have this chat another day."

Jim reached across the passenger seat and opened the side door. "It will have to wait a while, Herr Hauptmann." He said and motioned for Blair to get into the car. "Prof. Sandburg will be at the Embassy for a while."

Blair struggled again against the arms holding him, and after a nod from the German Hauptmann, the soldiers released him. He grabbed all his papers from the ground, moved around the car and got in next to Jim.

"Thank you, Herr Hauptmann." Jim said and produced a dry smile as he started the car. "I'll make sure that the Ambassador and my superiours hear about your co-operation."

"Danke, Herr Colonel." the soldier saluted and turned to his men.  


__

"Nice rescue, man." The young professor said as he settled more comfortably into the seat of the car. "And so totally appreciated."

"My name is Colonel Jim Ellison." Jim said. "Not man'."

"Oh, hey, sure, sorry ma I mean Jim." Blair looked over at the tall marine. "Is it okay if I call you Jim? I mean afterall you've saved my life here."

"Sure."

"I'm Blair."

"I know, Professor Sandburg."

"Oh yeah, hey, how come you knew my name back there?" the anthropologist asked.

"I saw it on your papers and on your university ID." Jim replied as he concentrated on the road and pointed at the papers on the young man's lap.

Blair's eyes went wide. "You could see my name printed on that paper from all the way over there? In the dark?"

Jim shrugged. He didn't really feel like telling his life's problems to somebody he'd just met. But somehow he felt like he could trust the young man beside him. A feeling, which was rare to non-existent for this seasoned soldier. After being lost for almost 6 weeks during an ill-fated rescue mission in the Chinese mountains, Jim had found that after his rescue and return to Washington, his senses had gone off scale. He heard things he shouldn't be hearing, felt things he shouldn't feel, his sense of taste was intensified and his sight had become more than just phenomenal. It was driving him crazy and no matter what he did or what he took, it didn't seem to help. He couldn't control what was happening, but in his desperation, he had never revealed his abilities to anybody. After a few years, he managed to get some form of control over his senses, but just enough to keep him in his job. To reveal his condition to anybody would mean risking his career and even his life. But Jim could feel that there was something special about Blair Sandburg.

"I've got a good eyesight." Jim said nonchalantly. "And good ears. That's how I knew you were in trouble." Jim took a deep breath and tried to change the subject as smoothly as possible. "So what does an American exchange professor have to do with Oberleutnant von Karlstein?" The American soldier asked, hoping that this would distract Blair Sandburg from the senses issue'.

"Who?" Blair asked absentmindedly

"Oberleutnant von Karlstein" Jim repeated. "Don't tell me you've never heard of him."

"No, I haven't. Who's he?" Blair asked as he continued to study the tall American soldier next to him with interest.

"For somebody in your position you are amazingly ignorant, my friend." Jim said and smiled. "Oberleutnant von Karlstein is the commanding officer for the occupying forces here in Amsterdam."

"Wow, a big shot. What does he want with me?"

"That's what I was asking you." Jim shook his head and sighed. "Whatever it is, it must be something pretty important if they send such a number of soldiers to escort you to a meeting with him." Jim thought for a moment and then turned his head to look at the young man next to him. "Are you with the resistance or something?"

Blair's eyes went wide and then he shook his head. "I'm afraid not." he said. "Even though I wouldn't mind giving those Nazis some of their own medicine back. But I've got something against guns and violence and I'm afraid my only weapons are parchment and quill. I'm a man of words, not actions. I'm an anthropologist."

"Anthropologist, hum?" Jim asked, his attention going back to the road ahead of him.

Blair nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, you see I study societies and cultures."

"What are you doing here in Amsterdam? Does the Dutch culture need more exploring and studying?"

Blair laughed. "No man, it's all said and done. But it's a long story. You see my brother Daniel lives here. He came here on holiday a few years ago and met this girl. They got married and well, he's still here. I just got back from an expedition to Peru and Danny asked me to spend a few months with him and his wife. They just had a baby and needed a hand. The Uni here offered me a space as an exchange tutor and so I thought why not?"

"What did you study in Peru?" Jim asked.

There was a moment of silence and he could feel Blair's eyes looking at him intently. "Sentinels." the young anthropologist whispered so silently that only the ears of a Sentinel could pick them up. "People like you."

Jim's eyes froze at those words and he gasped. "What are you talking about?" he breathed.

Blair smiled gently as he placed his hand on Jim's arm. "People with hypersensitive senses. Sight, sound, taste, smell and touch."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jim said and set his yaw.

Blair removed his hand from Jim's arm without looking away. "I've just witnessed your sense of hearing and sight. But what else do you have?" Blair probed. "Super sensitive taste and maybe feeling, too? How about sense of smell?"

Jim looked astonished over at the young anthropologist. "Yeah, how do you know?"

Blair looked ahead of him out of the window and onto the road ahead of them. Then he shook his head and sighed. "Oh man, this is amazing. All five of them! I can't believe it. Here of all places! This is so cool." Blair reached into his stack of papers and started to look through them, discarding the unwanted sheets onto the floor of the car. "Where is it? I know I have it here somewhere God, after all this time I can't believe it "

Jim slammed on the brakes and looked over at Blair. "Look Professor Sandburg 

"Blair."

"Blair, whatever listen, Chief, I don't know what you think you know, but let me tell you, you don't know squat."

Blair smiled at him. "Oh, I don't think so."

Jim sighed heavily and his head sunk on top of his hands onto the steering wheel. "What do you want from me?" he asked heavily.

Blair closed his eyes for a brief moment and then looked intently at Jim. "Listen, here's the deal, Jim: I have experience with Sentinels. I've studied them in various tribal cultures across the Amazon region."

"So what? Unless you haven't noticed it yet, we're not in the jungle here. "

Blair's face shone with excitement. "Exactly! I want to study you. Here. In this environment."

"Study me?"

"Yeah! A Sentinel in a big city. A Sentinel *of* a big city ... this is awesome. And you're working at the American Embassy! You're like protecting your tribe in a foreign country here! Wow!"

Jim shook his head. "This is war, Sandburg. There is no time for research. And in any case, I can't control any of this like those tribal people you've studied can."

Blair smiled. "I can give you that."

Jim looked at him. "Give me what?"

"Control." Blair said simply. "I can help you control your senses and your abilities. You'll be able to switch them on and off and use them as you need."

"I I don't know " Jim said and shook his head.

"Listen, Jim, just give me a chance here. One afternoon. How's that? If I can't prove to you in one afternoon that I know what I'm doing, then we can forget it and I'll be out of your face."

Jim was silent as he considered the young doctor's suggestion.

"Well?" Sandburg asked impatiently. "What do you think? I mean do we have a deal or what?"

"Okay, okay." Jim said and stopped Blair with a raised hand. "You win. Tomorrow afternoon. But I'm warning you. I'm not some lab rat you can just ..."

Blair grinned widely. "Hold your horses, Jim. I know what I'm doing and I promise you, I would never do anything to hurt or endanger you."

_J_im looked into the anthropologist's blue eyes and nodded. Then his eyes strayed onto the floor of the car and he spotted a magazine.

"Blair, what is this?" he asked as he picked up the magazine Blair had dropped onto the floor of the car. It was the current month's issue of the Anthropological Society's Newsletter. One of the titles on the front cover caught Jim's attention.

_"Sensing The Danger - Sentinel Abilities In Tribal Warfare. By Prof. Blair Sandburg'" _he read out loud. "Did you write this?"

Blair looked at the front cover and then at Jim. "Yeah. Why? It's just a piece about the studies I did in Peru. About how Sentinel abilities are used in tribal warfare to protect the tribe."

Ellison sighed. "Prof. Sandburg, I think I know what von Karlstein wants from you."

Blair looked at the magazine. "What? This? My article? What for?"

"Blair, the way those Nazis have been going, they seem to pick up on anything that might give them an edge in their conquest for supremacy. No matter how profane or incredible it is. I surely don't have to tell you about their exploits into the occult and the expeditions into the Middle East." Jim watched his young friend's face as the words sunk in. "Blair, I think they're after you. Your research might have given them the idea that you know how to train, spot and maybe even make people into Sentinels. And that would certainly give them an edge."

Blair shook his head. "Ah, no way, man." he denied.

"Blair, you found me and now imagine what Hitler could do with an army of Sentinels "

"Oh God, Jim." Blair whispered desperately as the truth sunk in. His lost puppy look tugged on Jim's heart. "This is all crazy, Jim. I mean what's happening to the world?" Blair sighed and looked into Jim's eyes. "This sucks big time."

Jim laughed. "Don't worry, Chief. It looks like you're the only one who knows about that senses stuff and how to get a grip on them. This makes you my perfect guide and I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."  


__

Chapter 3 

The next day, Prof. Sandburg knocked on the door of Jim Ellison's house in the centre of Amsterdam. It took a few minutes before the door opened and Jim smiled at him.

"Sandburg." he greeted the younger man. "C'mon in and make yourself comfortable. I've just made some coffee for us." With that, he pushed Blair toward the living room and then disappeared in the kitchen.

Blair smiled after the soldier and then slowly paced around the large, comfortable room. He placed his books and notebook onto the coffee table in the middle of the room and walked over to a large work table in the far corner next to the window. Various papers were strewn across the top and pictures framed the top end. Blair leaned forward to catch a better look. There was one with Jim and a younger man with a moustache, both dressed in fishing gear. They had their arms around each other's shoulders and jointly held up a huge fish. There was a strong resemblance between the two, and Blair figured that this could be Ellison's brother. The picture next to it confirmed his suspicion. It was a newspaper clipping from Cascade, Washington, dated only a few months ago. The picture next to the article showed the younger man in a business suit and the headline read "William Ellison Closes $4bn Construction Deal". Blair raised his eyebrows. Quite a family, he thought. The rest of the pictures showed Jim in various official surroundings. In one, he shook the American Ambassador's hand, in another, he received a medal from a highly decorated General. And there was one with Jim shaking hands with Franklin D. Roosevelt.

"Find something interesting, Chief?" a voice came from the back and Blair turned around. Jim had walked into the room with a tray and now placed it down on the coffee table.

"No, Jim, I was just admiring your place. It's great. So much bigger than mine, which is actually not surprising, considering your Embassy connections and my measly Professor's pay." Then he turned back and pointed at the photographs. "You've been around." he said.

Jim followed Blair's finger and smiled. "Yeah, it comes with the position, I guess." Then he sat down on the couch and began to pour coffee into two cups.

Blair walked over and joined the soldier on the couch. "So, how did you develop those senses, Jim?" Blair asked. "I mean did you always have them or did they come up suddenly?"

"Well, it happened in late 1934 actually." Jim started as he handed Blair his cup. "I was in China then. The President had ordered the Marines to land at Foochow to protect the American Consulate. When the whole thing was over and my team was moving out, I was left behind to secure the parameter. Suddenly, shots were fired and I was knocked out somehow. My men thought I was dead and retreated without me. It took me almost 3 weeks to get out."

"Were you all alone?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah. I was lost in the mountains and it was days until I finally found a village who helped me find my way back into civilisation."

Blair had opened up a notebook and took notes. He was now also wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. "That's amazing, Jim." he said. "I know that Amazon tribes send their Sentinels into a prolonged isolation to fine tune their senses. Until now, I assumed that this was just an additional custom, but it seems now that it is a genetic thing. A Sentinel's senses become active after a prolonged period of isolation. This is absolutely amazing."

Jim smiled. "Your coffee is getting cold, Chief." he said as he stirred sugar into his cup.

"What?" Blair asked as he looked up and adjusted his glasses. "Oh, yeah, sure. Coffee. Sorry, Jim." He took a quick sip and then turned back to his notes. "So, how developed are your senses then?" he asked. "Like your sense of smell for example."

Jim shrugged. "I'm not sure. I've never really tried anything experimental. I was too worried that something might happen." Then he looked straight into Blair's face. "But I can tell that you had an onion bagel with cream cheese before you came here. Probably from the little shop at the train station because they're my favourites, so that's an easy one to spot for me. The apple at the bottom of your bag has seen better days and you were probably down at the docks this morning, because I can smell the fish and the ocean on your clothing."

Blair had stopped scribbling and stared at Jim. "Wow!" he said and dropped his pen. "That is so amazing. I can't I'm speechless!"

"I doubt that." Jim smiled and took another sip from his coffee. "Somehow you don't strike me as the speechless type, Chief."

Blair pulled a face. "Okay, okay. Let's try something else." He stood up, walked over to the window and pulled the curtains aside.

Jim followed him curiously. "What?" he asked.

"I want you to take a look outside and tell me what you see down there."

Jim looked from Blair's face hesitantly down onto the busy street, not quite sure what the young anthropologist wanted. "I see people, Chief." he offered. "And cars, street vendors offering stuff on the sidewalk."

Blair smiled. "That's good, Jim. What else do you see?"

"I I don't that's all I can "

"Check out the guy out at the street corner!" Blair offered. "What is he doing?"

Jim looked down. "He's reading a newspaper."

"And what's the headline?"

Jim concentrated at the front page, his eyes almost zooming closer. _"Prime Minister decides on economic issues." _he said and then saw a wide grin on Sandburg's face. "What?" he asked.

"What do you mean, what'?" Blair posed. "Don't you realise that you've just read the headline of a news paper about 600 yards away – and from the top floor of a 5 storey building? Man, you're amazing!"

Jim sighed heavily and then Blair slapped him on the back. "Here, Jim, " he started and pointed his attention back out of the window. "Try this now. I want you to concentrate and see if you can hear what the two guys at the bus stop are talking about."

"Chief that is really I can't "

"Just give it a try, okay? You're doing great." With that, he placed a gentle hand on the small of Jim's back. He could sense that the tall soldier was feeling uncomfortable and worried. "Don't worry, Jim." Blair said in a low and calming voice. "I'm here. I'll watch out for you. Nothing's gonna happen."

Jim nodded and he could almost feel the calming, comforting feeling pouring into him through Blair's hand on his back. Ellison took a deep breath and concentrated again. Extending his hearing, he seemed to travel past the voices of the flats below them and down onto the streets.

_"No milk for Mr Weisner today, Jon." _he could hear the doorman at the front entrance of his building say and kept going. He picked up the engine noise and the honking of the cars passing by on the street. A dog barked and two women were arguing about the price of a dress in the shop window. Just as he was about to touch the two men at the bus stop, he heard screaming and shouting.

_"Please don't. No!" _the panicked voice of an older man rang in Jim's ears. _"We haven't done anything wrong. Please, you can't just take these. This is all we have. Please no "_

_"Shut up, Jew, and be thankful that this is all we take." _Jim heard laughter in the background as items were thrown out of the first floor window and onto the streets. _"This time!"_

_"No, oh God - Marten help me!" a woman's voice echoed through the laughter. "Our things! Please stop it. We have done nothing to you or anybody! Call the Police, somebody!"_

_"We are in charge here now!"_ a harsh voice shouted. _"It's time for you to leave, Jew!" _The men laughed loudly and Jim could hear one of them grabbing the older woman. _"We don't want your kind here anymore!"_

"Jim?"

_"Let me go! Marten!!! Oh god help me!!" the woman's screams echoed through Jim's head._

"Hey, Jim!"

_"Nellie! Leave her along, you pigs!"_

"Jim! Hey! Snap out of it! Come back to me!" Blair's insistent voice brought Ellison from the apartment only a few streets away, back into his flat. He shook his head to bring himself back under control, but he could still hear the fearful shouts of the couple.

Jim reached for Blair's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "I'm back, I' okay, Chief. Thanks to you." Then he looked out of the window and back at the young Professor. "Look, I'll be right back, okay? You stay here!"

"What? Hey, wait a minute, Jim, you can't just "

"I'll be right back. Just stay put, okay?"

Blair wanted to protest, but as he saw Jim's worried face, he simply nodded, but Jim was already out of the door.

"Where the hell are you going, man?" Blair wondered out loud as his eyes followed Jim as he ran out of the house, across the street and disappeared behind the street corner. The anthropologist sighed heavily and slumped down in one of the leather chairs. His mind wandered back to a few minutes ago. It was almost as if Jim had frozen on him. He didn't respond to Blair's calls and had just stared dead ahead out of the window. Blair's hands brushed his long, curly hair back behind his ears and he reached into his bag for his notebook. He opened it and started to scribble his thoughts onto the white sheets.

_"When exposed to a more difficult task of extending the sense of hearing beyond the immediate surroundings, the subject seemed to freeze in concentration and was difficult to be pulled out of this state. This might have been a manifestation of Burton's suggested zone-out factor, in which the Sentinel focuses too much on one of the senses and becomes oblivious to his/her surroundings." Blair reread the sentence and continued. "A situation like this would explain Burton's hypothesis that every Sentinel needs a Guide. A person trusted by the Sentinel to watch his/her back while the Sentinel is using his/her senses. The Guide would be at the Sentinel's side, protecting it and be ready to bring him/her out of such a zone-out. Burton noted that the relationship between Sentinel and Guide is predestined and was stronger and went deeper than between siblings, as one is ready to give his/her life for the other in a heartbeat."_

Blair nodded to himself and looked up from his notebook. A Guide' he thought. He just managed to bring Ellison out of one of those zone-outs. And he didn't even know what to do. Just did it. And when his hand had touched the Sentinel, it felt strange calming complete. Did that mean he was a Guide? Blair swallowed hard as he looked over what he'd just written. A Guide. Pre-destined. He shook his head. No way! While he had to agree that he felt an instant link to James Ellison from the first evening they'd met, he still didn't believe that he was pre-destined for anything else than teaching anthropology. But was there really a difference? Isn't a teacher also a guide? Did that mean that he was being prepared for this his entire life?

Into his thoughts, he suddenly heard footsteps outside the door, then a key was inserted and the door pushed open. Blair jumped up from his chair at the sudden noise and stumbled backwards toward the window.

The door was pushed open and Jim walked in, followed by an elderly couple.

"Jim! Oh God, you scared the living daylights out of me. Where did you go? What's going on?"

Jim released a tense breath. "Sorry to have scared you, Chief!" he said and then pointed at a group of people behind him.

Blair creased his eyebrows questioningly. "Who are those people, Jim?"

Jim pointed at the older man with grey hair and metal rimmed classes. "This is Marten Weil and his wife Nellie. Some German soldiers broke into their fur shop across the road from the bus station. The soldiers smashed the windows and took all his furs and then they threw Mr Weil's clothes into the street. They've called them names and smeared anti-semitistic shit all over their doors and windows. I've heard what was going on and I just had to do something. So I thought I'd bring them here because after that, I don't think it's safe for them to go back to their home "

Blair sighed and smiled warmly as he realized what his friend was trying to do. "What are you planning on doing with them now, Jim?" he whispered as his eyes wandered across the faces of the two Jews in front of him.

Jim shrugged. "I don't know I thought maybe to this place I heard about. To Willem Boom's outside of town. He's a church minister, and has worked with Jewish people for a long time. He's got a large house in Hilversum for Jews who had escaped from Hitler's Germany before the war."

Blair nodded in acknowledgement. "Yeah, I know Willem. But Jim, the streets are swamped with German soldiers. How were you planning to get them out?"

"I I wasn't " Jim's voice trailed off. "I don't know. This isn't my thing, Blair. I want to help, but I don't know how."

Blair smiled at his enthusiastic friend. Then his expression went serious as he turned to Mr Weil and his wife. "Don't worry, Sir." He said in Dutch. "We are going to help you. You stay here with Jim for now. Be ready as soon as it's dark." Then he turned back at Jim. "I have an idea, but you must promise me not to tell anybody about this!"

Jim nodded. "Of course, Blair." he said in determination. "I swear."

Blair gathered his things from the table and walked out of the room. Before he reached the door, he turned around. "We'll finish this another time, right?" he asked, almost pleading.

Jim smiled. "Sure, Chief." he nodded. "I don't want to give up on this and I have the feeling that I need you more than I can imagine right now."

Blair grinned. "We'll work on this together and you'll see, it will be a blessing and not a curse."

"I trust you, Blair." Jim said seriously and then smiled.

Blair smiled too. "Thanks, man. I'll be back tonight." With that, the door closed behind the young professor.

That evening at nine o'clock, Blair knocked on Jim's door and then led Mr Weil and his wife away into the dark.

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Chapter 4

Two days later, Jim heard a gentle knock on the door and as he opened it, he saw a smiling Blair Sandburg standing there, a brown paper bag in his hand.

"Hi Jim!" he said and raised his hand holding the bag. "Can I come it? I brought onion bagels."

Jim smiled warmly and stepped aside, allowing Blair to enter. "Of course, Professor. C'mon in." he took the bag from Blair's hand and walked into the kitchen. "Is this the Greeks bearing gifts or something?" he shouted into the living room.

Blair had walked over to the window and stared outside. "Na, I just thought I'd surprise you. You said you like them and I was in the area."

Jim fixed some coffee and bringing in a large plate with bagels and a selection of meats and cheeses, they settled down in the living room. Jim looked over at the young man. "So?" Jim asked. "What happened to the Weil's?"

Blair smiled and patted his arm gently as reached for a bagel. "Jim, if you are going to work with the Resistance, you've got to learn not to ask too many questions." He turned around with a knowing smile and then went serious. "Don't worry. They're safe."

Jim released a breath. "Good." he said and took a sip from his coffee. They were silent for a few minutes and then Blair looked over at Jim.

"Listen, Jim, I know that this must be really weird for you, but I want to tell you, that you can trust me. I want to make this work, not only because of the Sentinel thing, but because of you. I don't know, but somehow, I like you. You give me this feeling of security and comfort. There is something I can't explain it, but it's more than just my research. I really want to help you." Then he shook his head and buried it in his hands. "Oh, God, listen to me! I sound really stupid and pathetic."

Jim shook his head and reached out to touch the younger man's arm. "No, Chief, you don't. I feel exactly the same. Maybe it's got something to do with this whole Sentinel thing, the way I've felt totally lost and out of control until you came along. I don't know. But I want to find out and I think we'll make a great team."

Over the next couple of weeks, the two worked hard on developing and controlling Jim's senses, and their friendship grew closer and closer. They worked both at Jim's and Blair's house and on occasion in Jim's office at the American Embassy. Jim's senses made it easy for him to notice that Blair was being watched by the Gestapo and Ellison was more and more often forced to speak with Oberleutnant von Karlstein to prevent Blair from being dragged into the German's office. Holland was changing for the worse and Blair, his younger brother Daniel and some of his University friends were getting more and more involved in helping to hide Jews from the increasing Nazi threat. Whenever possible, Jim and even Peter used their influences at the American Embassy to help out with either ration cards or contacts for hiding places. But it became increasingly evident that all of them were fighting a loosing battle and Jim secretly worked on a plan to get Blair and his family out of Holland if it became dangerous for them.

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It was a cold, Sunday afternoon. Jim was reading the Sunday paper and absentmindedly listening to the radio when the telephone rang.

"Jim, it's Peter. Have you heard from your friend Blair?"

Jim shook his head. "Not since two days ago. Why? What's going on?"

"Oh God, Ellison, you haven't heard? The Germans are rounding up all the young men out on the streets and sending them to Germany as slave factory-workers. The soldiers also smash the windows of shops owned by Jewish people and steal the goods inside." Peter stopped for a few seconds to catch his breath. "Jim, the Jewish shopkeepers from the bakery around the corner have disappeared and there's an order out for all the Jews in Holland to report to the police. All the Jews! They now must wear a bright yellow star, on their clothes wherever they go."

"My God." Jim whispered. "I've arranged for a ticket for Blair and his family for the boat to New York, but it's not until next week Friday and I haven't even told him about it yet."

Peter nodded. "I know. But this is getting bad and I've heard from my sources at Gestapo Headquarters that they are seriously thinking about bringing Blair in. They've got every bit he's ever published on this Sentinel thing and want to get their hands on him for some reason. I don't know why and what these theories of his are about, but the Nazis are serious, Jim. American or not, Blair's got to go into hiding."

Just then Jim heard a knock on the door and as he extended his hearing, he picked up the rhythmic sound of a familiar heartbeat. "Relax, Peter, Blair just came. I'll speak to you later."

Jim hung up and walked over to the front door. When he opened it, he met a smiling Blair. As they closed the door behind them, Jim looked intently at his young friend and tried to ignore the yellow star that was stitched onto Blair's dark brown jacket. "Coffee?" he asked.

Blair nodded as he followed him. "Coffee sounds great, man."

"You look exhausted." Jim commented as they walked into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Jim filled the brown powder into the machine and Blair leaned against the sink. "God, Jim you can't believe how many people are afraid for their lives here now. The Germans are hunting down Jews all over the country. Yesterday, I helped one of my Jewish students to go into hiding after her Nazi neighbour denounced her and accused her of being a prostitute! I mean can you believe it?"

Jim turned and grabbed the anthropologist's shoulders firmly. "Blair, this is getting dangerous. You're helping so many people. I think you should maybe think about "

Blair shook his head in denial. "Jim, I can't let those people down. I'm an American exchange teacher and for now, I'm safe from the clutches of the Nazis." Jim wanted to interrupt, but Blair raised his hand. "And you don't have to tell me about the Gestapo following me. I know about them. They came to the University last week to question me. It was all about my Sentinel research." He looked up at Jim. "You were right. They think because of my research, that I'm some sort of Sentinel expert." He laughed, but it was dry and sad. "It gets even better! Imagine that, Jim, von Karlstein thinks I'm secretly training Sentinels."

Jim sighed. "Well, you are." he whispered and then he shook his head. "I knew it, Chief, you're in danger."

Blair swallowed hard. "No. I might be Jewish, but they wouldn't dare touch me. I'm an American, an exchange professor. They've got nothing on me and this Sentinel research is certainly no reason to arrest me." He sighed deeply. "But my brother and his wife and child and all their friends ..."

Jim sighed heavily. He knew that whatever he would say to Blair would meet on death ears. "Fine." he said. "But promise me you'll be careful. I don't want this Sentinel research to become a danger to you. It's not worth it." Jim paused for a moment and then took a deep breath. "You will need ration cards as well as places to hide your Jewish friends," he said. "The US Embassy is evacuating all American citizens and less and less ration card are now being issued. They will have to find their own supplies in a few days time. And the Embassy has been given an ultimatum. The last passenger ship is leaving for New York next Friday. After that, there's no way out anymore." Jim looked at the younger man and then reached for the anthropologist's arm. Squeezing it gently, he said. "Blair, the last boat back home leaves Amsterdam next Friday. I've got you and your family tickets and I'm going, too. It's no longer safe here for you. You should be on that boat out of here."

Blair enclosed Jim's hand with his' and shook his head. "No Jim, I can't leave here. Not yet. There is still so much more to do." He closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

Suddenly, Jim's eyes caught sight of something sticking out of Blair's pocket. "What's that, Chief?" he asked as he reached out and before Sandburg could stop him, he pulled the piece of paper out.

"It's nothing, Jim." Blair said and tried to reach for it back. "Nothing that concerns you."

Jim pointed at the yellow star on Blair's jacket. "Like this is nothing?" he asked dryly. Then he turned around and held onto the paper protectively. He opened it and saw it was a letter from the local Gestapo station. His eyes flew over the text. "Chief, they wanted you to come to the station for a more detailed interview about your academic work." Jim read the letter and shook his head. "They want you to bring all your research." Then his eyes found the date. "Yesterday afternoon!"

"Yeah, so?"

"Yeah so? Well, did you go? Tell me you didn't go."

"Relax, Jim, of course I didn't go. It's probably about the classes I teach or something. Nothing to worry about. They are not very likely to come running after me. The Gestapo's got more important things to do right now." But Blair didn't sound convinced and his heart was going at 100mph to Sentinel ears.

Jim shook his head. "I don't know, Chief. Are you sure that's all they're interested in? Not the hiding people stuff?"

Blair stood up resolutely. "I don't want to find out."

Jim stood also. "I'll help you hide." he said. "You can stay here with me. I have a big enough guest room and we could work on my senses. You can get all your research done quicker. Up close and personal. Wouldn't that be something?"

"You don't have to do that, Jim." Blair said quietly. "You're not my blessed protector or something. Besides, it's too risky. If they see us together they might put two and two together and get suspicious, and then you're gonna be in trouble, too."

Jim smiled. "Blessed Protector? I like that. But we're in this together, Chief." he said and slapped the young anthropologist on the back. "All the way. In any case, the Nazis won't suspect me. They won't dare raid the apartment of a member of the American Embassy. I have diplomatic immunity. You can stay here for as long as you like. This place is perfect and it's big enough for two."

Blair was pacing in the middle of the living room and Jim's Sentinel sense picked up his young friends pounding heartbeat and he knew that Blair was worried. Jim walked up behind the anthropologist and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, turning him around to face him.

"Stop worrying, Blair." he said gently. "Everything will be fine. You'll see."

Blair met his eyes and the sadness in them drove into Jim's heart like a dagger. "Jim, I have a bad feeling about this. You shouldn't have to do this. It's much too dangerous. If they only suspect that you're a Sentinel Please listen to me "

"I have listened to you, Chief. And I know you feel, too, that there is a bond between us. I don't know what it is, but I know I can trust you. And you know that you can trust me. Over the past week, I feel like I'm closer to you than to my own brother. I'm constantly thinking about everything you ever said about what is morally right and what is wrong." Jim's hands brushed gently over the yellow star stitched onto Blair's jacket. "This is wrong." he said and then pointed at the guest room door.

"This is right."

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Chapter 5

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_Wednesday morning, February 1939_

It was a particularly harsh and cold February and Blair was ill with the flu. With a loud cough, he came from the kitchen and placed a tray of hot, steaming tea and several cups onto the living room table. Then he smiled into the faces of the two other people sitting on the sofa. His younger brother Daniel was the first to reach for a cup and then looked at Blair worriedly. But his older brother just smiled, coughed again and sat down next to Jim Ellison.

"Okay, " Daniel began. "I think you all know why we've come together here today. The Kindertransport we are planning on stopping, needs as much help and organisation as possible." Daniel took a deep breath. "There are around 250 Jewish children from Nazi-occupied Europe being transported by train to Germany next week. The train is to depart from Amsterdam Station and has to be prevented from leaving. As it is a routine transport, the Nazis won't expect us. Guards should be minimal and we shouldn't have any problems overpowering them. And then we will have to take care of the rescued children." He looked over at Jim and smiled proudly. "Jim, you've done some discrete listening-around and said that you've already found homes for almost 100 children in England?"

Jim nodded.

"That's fantastic, Jim!" Blair said.

Jim sighed and poured himself a cup of tea. "Unfortunately that's all I've managed to secure for now, but I'll try and find more people, maybe even in America, who would take in Jewish children. There are even a few people at the Embassy who are willing to help, either by fostering some of the children themselves or finding foster homes for them."

"You're doing way too much, Jim." Blair said sadly. "You're running a big risk. If the Nazis ever find out "

"I'm not doing enough, Blair." Jim said. "Look at you and your brother. You're risking your lives every day to help others. How can I stand by and just watch?" Ellison took a deep breath. "Now, the children will need counselling and a lot of moral support." he continued. "I can't begin to imagine what it must be like for them to say good-bye to their parents, not knowing if they'll ever see them again."

Blair nodded. "Yeah, and then we ship them off into a strange country with a new language to learn and to live with strangers."

Suddenly the buzzer sounded and the three men looked at each other.

"Are we still expecting somebody?" Daniel asked.

Jim shook his head. "Nope." He stood up and walked towards the door and then opened it. He gasped as he stared into the face of several Gestapo officers. Jim was roughly pushed aside and the officers, followed by two Dutch Nazis, burst into the house and into the living room.

Jim followed them and cleared his throat firmly. "Excuse me, officers, but what's going on here?"

A tall, German officer, who was obviously in command, stepped forward and stared for a moment at Jim, assessing him from top to bottom. Then he simply turned around and pointed at Blair. "This one." he said and one of the Gestapo grabbed Blair roughly and pulled him into the kitchen, slamming the door. Inside, he shoved Blair down to sit on a chair and started to circle around him.

"Where is the Sentinel?" he asked as he adjusted his black leather gloves.

"What? A Sentinel? I don't know what you're talking about." Blair answered, hoping that his voice didn't show how panicked he was. He swallowed hard and tried not to turn around and trying to see where Jim was. If he was looking. Or listening to him and thus give himself away. Without warning, the soldier reached out and struck him brutally across the face. Blair's head snapped to the side and he tasted blood. And through the haze of dizziness, he could hear the soldier asking him the same question again. Blair raised his head in defiance and looked coldly into the soldier's eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about." he repeated.

"We know about your work and your research and we know that you are hiding a Sentinel. Where is he?" the soldier asked, and when Blair clenched his jaw in response, the German reached out and hit him again several times.

Blair felt the blood in his mouth beginning to trickle down the side of his chin and the room began to spin around him dangerously. He knew that he had been careful and all the notes he had done about his work with Jim gave no indications as to the subject's identity. The Nazi officer was fishing. "Go to hell." Blair hissed stubbornly.

"I know what you're doing and I don't care if you're an American or not. I'll kill you, Jew, if you do not cooperate." the soldier said coldly.

"Don't let me stop you." Blair whispered as he whipped the blood away from his split lip. "I won't tell you squad!"

The officer pulled Blair roughly up from his chair and pushed him back into the living room. Jim rose from his seat as he watched his young friend stumble towards the sofa and he reached out to help him sit down, worriedly taking in the Blair's blood-covered face.

Then the tall Marine turned at the officer who was obviously in charge. "What's going on here? How dare you do this? We are American citizens and you have no right to treat us this way. I'm demanding to contact the Embassy right now."

All this time, the rest of the German soldiers were searching the house, smashing open cupboards and doors, obviously looking for something. After half an hour they gave up.

"All right," the officer in charge said. "Arrest them and take them to the police station. And leave a guard outside the house. I want to know exactly who goes in and out of here."

At the police station, Blair, Daniel and Jim had to spend the rest of the day sitting on the floor of a large room amongst more people. All of Jim's calls and demands to speak with the American Embassy were ignored. As it turned evening, a small group gathered around an old man who had been sitting in the corner quietly. In a deep, calming voice, he recited:

"Adonai Eloheinu - You are my hiding place and my shield. I find hope in your word. Hold me up and I shall be safe."

Neither Blair, Daniel or Jim had ever been religious people, but somehow the old man's faith in God gave them comfort and strength.

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Chapter 6

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The next day, Blair and Jim were taken to Ravensbrugge concentration camp, just outside of Amsterdam. For further questioning, they were told. Daniel was released. During the night they had spent at the police station, Jim had over and over demanded to be allowed to contact the American Embassy, but his requests fell on deaf ears. One of the Gestapo officers had taken his diplomatic passport away from him, and all of Jim's demands to have it returned only resulted in laughs. He was being accused of being a spy, and the Nazi officer had informed him that they had stripped him of his diplomatic immunity. But Jim and Blair both knew that Jim was being used against Blair.

The first night at Ravensbrugge, the two men had to sleep out in the open. It poured with rain, and the ground became a sea of mud. Then the next day, Jim and Blair were packed into a huge barrack-room. It had been built to house 400 people, but there were now almost 800 prisoners in it. They had to sleep on straw mattresses filled with choking dust, swarming with fleas and Blair shuddered as he realized that someone had been sick on his'. The room was bitterly cold and their only food was a plate of thin porridge the next morning, and one piece of black bread in the evening. Punishments were severe and male prisoners were shot on a daily basis

In the evening, after a miserable supper, Blair and Jim sat together and Blair told Jim about the travels he'd done in the past to keep them busy and distracted. At first, a small group of other prisoners gathered around them to listen, then more and more men joined them. The men came from many countries, including Poland, France, Germany and Russia. Blair translated his stories from English to Dutch and even into German, someone else translated the German into Polish, and so on. Under these terrible conditions, the goodness and the eternal believe in justice and fairness in Blair's stories shone out brightly and his firm believe in hope brought everybody comfort. With death all around, the young man's enthusiasm seemed to give the men hope for the future. Blair seemed to have risen above all the suffering. As the evening turned into night and everybody settled down on their mattresses, Blair whispered to Jim, "I can see a place, somewhere in America. It's a beautiful balcony of an apartment overlooking a marina. We are sitting on the balcony, drinking beer and laughing and having fun. We are going to be together and alive. Jim, I believe one day this nightmare will be over."  


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The next day, Blair was taken away for an interrogation. When he was dragged into the cold, grey room, he was surprised to be greeted by a man in civilian clothing and not in Nazi uniform.

"Who are you?" Blair asked as he sat down on a wooden chair.

The man smiled. "My name is Michael Bertmann and I work for the Gestapo."

The accent gave the man away and Blair creased his eyebrows in surprise. "You're not German." he noted. "You're Dutch."

Michael Bertmann nodded. "Very perceptive, Professor Sandburg. I am Dutch if you must know." Then he leaned forward and began in a very friendly way. "You are an American and I would like to help you, Professor. But you must tell me everything about your Sentinel studies. Tell us all about Sentinels and tell us where you're hiding them. You must co-operate with the Germans and then they will set you free and you can go back home."

"I'm not hiding a Sentinel, let alone a group! Whatever gave you that idea, man?" Blair asked.

Bertmann pulled out a journal and dropped it onto the table in front of Blair. Sandburg gasped. It was his notebook.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"We found it in your bedroom in Colonel Ellison's house. In a loose floorboard." Bertmann smiled. "I can see that you weren't expecting us to find it."

Blair shrugged. "So? You found my research. Good for you. Know any good publishers? It's a hell of a SciFi novel."

"SciFi novel?" Michael asked.

Blair nodded. "Yeah. Novel. C'mon, you don't believe that any of what I wrote is real, do you?" Blair leaned over, reached for his notebook and opened a page. He smiled as he read the paragraph "He stood at the window of the top floor of the high rise tower and using his senses of sight, read the newspaper headlines of a newspaper held by a man standing at a bus stop 400 yards away." Blair looked up at Bertmann. "C'mon! That's just not possible!"

"But your Sentinel research, all your papers "

"gave me the ideal background for a novel like that." Blair put the book down and leaned back in his seat. "What can I say? Anthropology doesn't pay that good to pass over a chance like that."

But Bertmann was not at all convinced, and for an hour Bertmann questioned him, and Blair managed to avoid giving away any vital information. Especially concerning Jim. But the questions about his Sentinel work didn't stop. The Gestapo man specially wanted to know how a Sentinel became a Sentinel. Blair was glad he really did not know exactly and told stories about his time spent with various Peruvian tribes.

"That's very interesting, Professor. And now tell me about your other activities." Bertmann asked suddenly.

"Other activities? Oh yes, about the anthropology club and my work for the local museum." Of course Blair knew that Michael Bertmann did not mean that, but Blair eagerly told him all about it, and after a while, the man listened in amazement.

"What a waste of time," Michael commented. "Clinging onto religion and obsolete, ancient believes to hope for some Messiah to give you salvation in the end."

"I don't see it that way and neither do thousands of different cultures around the world." Blair said. "We can learn a lot from the development of various cultures and draw parallels to our own. You yourself must know how important it is to study a culture in detail in order to preserve it." Then he paused for a moment and regarded the man opposite him with interest. "You're Jewish, too, aren't you?" he asked. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping them? You should be fighting with us."

"That will be enough for today," Bertmann snapped and gestured for the guards outside the door to take the prisoner away.

"It's not about belief, it's about what's right! You might not believe, but you can't deny who you are and what is right and wrong!" Blair shouted as he was dragged out of the door.

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The next day, when the hearing continued, Michael Bertmann asked Blair more and more about his work and the various cultures he had visited and studied. The Sentinel questions seemed to be forgotten. Blair was able to tell him about the various cultures he'd studied and the many expeditions he'd been on. It turned out that Michael hated the work he had to do and had actually studied anthropology before the war. But his parents had been transported to a concentration camp in Germany by the Nazis to get him to co-operate with the Gestapo, using his anthropological background.

From then on, Michael actually tried to make Blair and Jim's lives easier as much as he could, but he didn't have the power to set them both free. All this time Jim had been giving Blair more and more of his rations each day, because the young anthropologist had still not gotten over his flu and was getting weaker. But there were so many other needy prisoners, young boys and older men, that Blair had begged him to pass the food on to them. Jim obliged heavy-heartedly, knowing that Blair needed all the food he could get.

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A few days later, there were rumours that the Allied army was not far from Holland. The prisoners heard explosions and became very excited. But it turned out that the Germans had only been blowing up roads and bridges. The next day, the Germans shot 700 of the male prisoners. Half of the men were put into cattle trucks and sent to Germany. As Jim and Blair nervously watched yet another truckload of men leaving the camp through the windows of their barrack, the door opened.

"Haftlinge Sandburg und Ellison!" a tall German soldier barked and pointed his rifle at them. "Mitkommen!"

Jim and Blair exchanged concerned looks and followed the soldier outside. What was going to happen? Were they going to be punished for something? Or shot?

They were escorted to a waiting truck and pushed roughly inside. The back cover was dropped closed and as they sat in the dark, they felt the truck take off. They had driven for what seemed like an eternity as the truck suddenly came to a halt and Jim could feel Blair pressing closer to him as the cover of the truck was thrown back and the face of Michael Bertmann smiled at them.

"Sorry to be so melodramatic, but it was the only way to get you guys out." he said and motioned for them to come down.

"Michael?" Blair asked in disbelief as he accepted the Dutchman's hand to climb down from the truck. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like, Blair?" Michael asked as he helped Jim climb down to. "I'm helping you escape. That's what I'm doing."

Jim and Blair stared at him speechless. Michael smiled. "You gave me a lot to think about, Blair. I used the Gestapo's contact list to find my mother and my father and you were right. They were killed in Dachau three months ago."

"Michael, I'm so ..." Blair started but Michael just waved him off.

"It's okay, Blair. You were right and I was wrong. The Nazis used me just like they tried to use you. But you weren't ready to surrender your ideals and betray your friends and family." He looked over at Jim. "And your Sentinel." Jim gasped but Michael just padded his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, Colonel. You can trust me. I've known for days about you and if I wanted to betray you, I would have done it a long time ago."

"What are you going to do now?" Blair asked.

Michael shrugged. "I don't know, but I have spoken with this guy Daniel Sandburg and he told me about those two men in Amsterdam who are ready to give their lives to smuggle children out of Germany. I actually want to join them."

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Chapter 7

The train station was surprisingly calm at this late Friday lunchtime, and Jim and Blair waited patiently behind a small wall along the main building. From their hiding place, they could overlook both the station's platform and the car park. Jim eyed the group of SS soldiers patrolling along the waiting train.

"I can take them out, easily." he whispered. "What time is it?"

Blair checked his watch. "It's almost 2. The children should be here any minute. Once we get them out of here and on their way, we have enough time to still make the boat to New York."

A quick movement behind them made them turn around and seconds later, Michael dropped down next to them behind the wall. "Daniel said the truck is ready and waiting." He breathed as he peeked over the wall across the train station. "I can take them out easily." he whispered as he spotted the group of soldiers.

Blair grinned. "Well, between you and Jim, I feel as safe as houses."

Just then they heard screams and shouts and an approaching German army transport vehicle. They ducked deeper behind the wall and Jim's Sentinel hearing tracked the vehicle as it stopped in the parking area in front of the station. Blair looked to the other side of the station and spotted Daniel and several resistance members positioning themselves behind the building and on the roof tops. In the parking lot, several soldiers jumped out of the driver's cabin of the army transport and positioned themselves at the back. One of the soldiers pulled the large cover back and shouted: "Out! Schnell, schnell!"

"It's show time." Jim whispered as he heard the children dropping out of the vehicle one by one. They waited until all the children had left the vehicle and were escorted to the waiting train. As the first child was about to climb up to the open wagon, Jim shouted: "NOW!" and Blair jumped up from behind the wall. Looking at the children, he shouted in Dutch "Get down on the floor now!"

Just as the surprised children dropped to the floor, shots rang out from across the station and one by one, the German soldiers dropped to the ground. Jim and Michael were up and running across the platform. With powerful swings, they took out the soldiers standing closest to the children, while Blair ushered them out of the station and back to the parking lot. There, next to the German transport stood a dark grey truck. Daniel was waving at them.

"C'mon, c'mon!" he called and smiled, trying to look friendly and as less frightening as possible. "We don't have much time!"

__

One by one, they helped the children into the back of the truck and as the last one was safely settled down, Blair banged three times against the side of the truck. "This was the last one! Go, go, go!"

With a powerful roar of the engine, the truck took of and Daniel and Blair watched it disappear down the road.

Blair and Daniel exchanged a long look and smiled at each other.

"Our pick-up will be here any minute." Daniel said.

"Blair? Daniel?" they heard Jim's worried voice and seconds later, the Marine and Michael came running out of the entrance door. "Everything okay?"

Daniel nodded. "Everything is fine. They've gone."

A movement behind Jim made Blair look up and he froze. "Jim!!!! Look out!!!!" Blair shouted and reached into his large coat, bringing out a German army service revolver.

With one swift move, Ellison turned around and dropped the German soldier with one shot from his revolver.

Then he walked over to Blair and Daniel, who hadn't moved. "Give me that thing, Chief. You can barely hold it!" He reached for the weapon and pulled it effortless out of his young friend's hand. Suddenly, another shot rang out and as the three men turned around, another German officer dropped to the ground, gripping his arm painfully. Michael had stepped from the shadows of the building and now stood over the fallen soldier, his gun pointing at the man's head. Behind the men, a black car approached and Daniel waved at the driver to wait for a moment.

"No, Michael!" Blair pleaded. Killing in self-defence was one thing, this would be cold-blooded murder, no matter who the man on the ground was. "Don't do it. It's not worth it."

Michael's hand holding the service revolver shook as he tried to gain control of his emotions. "All those years while I was serving those animals, I kept praying to God. Often, when the pain of what I had to do became too much to bear I would say, God if you let me live I promise to take revenge and kill every Nazi that crosses my path. I will make them pay for taking my family from me and leaving me without a burial site to visit."

Blair swallowed hard at those words and carefully looked around them to see if they'd attract any unwanted attention so far. Jim nodded to let his young friend know that his Sentinel senses hadn't picked up anything.

"Michael " Blair whispered urgently. "How many Nazis can you kill before you die? 10, 100, 1000? And then what? Who will remember your mother or your grandparents or your brother after you're gone? How will you honour their memory?"

Michael's eye filled with tears as he looked up into Blair's blue eyes. Then he lowered his hand holding the revolver and the tears started falling. "God, please forgive me for not keeping my promise." he sobbed.

Blair grabbed Michael's arms forcefully and shook him. "Michael, listen to me! You will survive this and you will make a good life for yourself. A life that your mother would be proud of. You'll raise a family, leave behind descendants so that there will be grandchildren for them to remember after you're gone. Never forget your ancestors and put your memories in the deepest corner of your mind to recall them before your days on Earth will end."

Michael looked up into Blair's eyes and his own filled with more tears. "Oh God, Blair .." he whispered.

"Blair!" Jim called out as he stared ahead of them. "We better hurry up. Company's coming."

Michael's eyebrows creased. "I can't hear anything. How can he tell?" Then he stopped himself. "Of course "

Blair pulled the man with him back to the waiting car. "He's got good ears." he said simply and then waved at Daniel. His younger brother stood at the car, talking to the driver.

"Are the children safe?" Blair asked.

Daniel nodded as he turned around. "Yes, they're gone safe and sound." Then he looked at Jim and Blair. "This is your pick-up to take you to the harbour. You've got to go. The boat is waiting. It won't be long until the Nazis find out what's happened here. Go!"

"Not without you, Danny!" Blair said. "We have to go and get Sharon and little Naomi, too."

"They're already safe, Blair. It's you and Jim, who have to get out of here before "

Suddenly, they were hit by a bright searchlight and a group of SS cars turned around the corner and stopped in front of the small group. Soldiers jumped out of both sides of the vehicles, weapons drawn and pointed them at Jim, Michael, Blair and Daniel.

"Well," the Oberleutnant snared as he paced in front of the men. "Which one of you is the traitor Michael Bertmann?"

Blair's eye locked with those of his friend and he smiled sadly. This was his chance to repay his friend for all he had done and the Oberleutnant didn't really want Michael. He wanted him, and Blair was not ready to let somebody else go to their death for him. Blair took a deep breath and then he took a step forward. "I'm Michael Bertmann." he said resolutely.

Michael's eyes went wide in shock and his head shot up "What? No, Blair, don't do this!" Then he grabbed the German officer's arm. "I'm Michael Bertmann."

Blair shook his head and looked at his friend gently and his right hand secretly pushed his ticket into Michael's pocket. "My friend here is just trying to protect me, Herr Oberleutnant. If you check his papers you will see that he is due on the USS Lutetia in two hours. I'm the one you really want. I've got everything you want."

The Oberleutnant nodded with a satisfied smile and after pulling the travel ticket out of Michael's pocket and inspecting it, he pushed Michael behind the line of soldiers, but Michael tried to get back to Blair. The soldiers rushed forward to hold him back as he screamed "I'm Michael! I'm Michael please, Blair No "

The Oberleutnant looked down at the orders in his hand again and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I almost forgot. And we also have to pick up Daniel Sandburg." he added and looked around him. Blair's face went pale. "No! Why? Not Daniel! You bastards No!!!!"

Daniel smiled sadly, but before he could take a step forward and join his older brother, a large shadow moved in front of him and pushed him backward.

"I'm Daniel Sandburg." Jim Ellison said and moved to stand proudly next to Blair.

Blair stared from Daniel up to Jim. "Don't do this Jim ... Oh, God, please Get out, get away!" then he turned at the Oberleutnant. "You're making a big mistake here! Let them go, they have done nothing wrong. It's me you want. He's "

But Jim's hand grabbed him arm and pulled him around to face him. "Blair, don't." he whispered and smiled. "Your brother has family a beautiful wife and an adorable daughter. Do you want to see them die?" Blair's painful expression almost broke Jim's heart and he loosened his grip on the young man. "They'll be on a ship to America in two hours and I give my life gladly for them." Then his hand grabbed Blair's chin and raised it slightly so their eyes met. "And I want to be with you every step of the way. I won't leave you alone to face whatever they'll do to you. Ever. This is about us. We finish this together, remember?"

A whistle blew at the bottom end of the station and the soldiers moved forward.

"Well, this train shouldn't leave empty. It would be a waste. Get on the train." the Oberleutnant snorted and pushed Blair and Jim towards the open wagon door.

Before the door was pushed closed behind them, Blair turned around, threw a gentle smile at Michael. "Take care of my brother." he said and then looked coldly at the soldiers. "You might laugh now, but in the end, everybody gets what they deserve."

But the soldiers only laughed and roughly pushed the massive wagon door closed. A second whistle blew and slowly the train pulled away from the station into the advancing darkness.

Michael and Daniel stood at the far end and embraced each other in a comforting hug.

"Dear God " Michael whispered. "Take care of them."

Both men watched the last of the train leave the station, when rough hands pulled them around. "Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg?" the German officer snared. "Report to the station office immediately."

Both Daniel and Michael tore their eyes away from the train vanishing into the distance and then followed the soldier in silence across the courtyard. No words could describe the feelings raging inside if them. Inside the station, they were led into a holding cell and soon they'd lost track of time. It must have been way past midnight, when their cell door unlocked, a German soldier entered and handed them both a set of papers. Michael looked at the papers in his hands and the red large stamp across them.

"Deportiert nach Amerika."_ (Deported to America)_

Michael and Daniel were free to leave. Michael could hardly believe it. But then he took a mental step backwards. Not him and Daniel were free. Jim and Blair were free. Both were pushed towards the car park.

Peter Simmons stood in the middle of the now empty space next to an official black Embassy car and shook their hands firmly. "Michael Bertmann and Daniel Sandburg, I presume? I'm Peter Simmons, Cultural Attaché of the American Embassy. It's good to see you in one piece. I had word about what was going on here and thought you might run into some trouble with your little *operation*." Then he looked questioningly into the man's eyes. "Jim Ellision and Blair Sandburg?" he asked carefully as he looked around. "Where are they? I'd ordered all of your deportation. Were they not with you tonight?"

Michael's eyes filled with tears as he swallowed hard and looked into Peter's face. He shook his head sadly.

"Blair and Jim ... are they are they never "

"Blair and Jim are gone." Daniel said, his voice heavy with emotion.

Peter didn't need to hear the words to understand that Jim and Blair were dead. "I was too late .." he whispered and his eyes locked with Daniel's. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."

"You did all you could." Daniel whispered and clutched the other man's arms with his hands. "We were all too late."

Peter nodded. "Let's go home." Peter whispered and pushed Michael and Daniel into his car.

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Epilogue

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As the ship sailed into the night, Michael drew in a painful breath as he watched Daniel Sandburg and his wife sitting next to him in the seats. Sharon held little Naomi tight in her embrace. A small smiled hushed across his face at the picture and Michael's gaze went out of the window and at the dark waters rushing beneath the ship.

He knew that by now, Blair and Jim were dead, and fleeing to America into safety, he was now the youngest survivor from a city of 25,000 Jews. Why was he chosen to live? He was neither the smartest nor the strongest. Blair certainly would have had the better future of them. But Blair had decided to give his life for his and Jim would not let his young friend go alone into an uncertain future. Deep down, Michael felt that the two men had been together like the brothers they chose to be. Until the end came. Shaking his head heavily, Michael tormentedly looked for an answer, but the God he had almost died for did not reveal himself to him. Not in his nightmare-ridden sleep nor in a vision. Michael had to search the deepest regions of his soul to arrive at an answer that he could accept and live with. That his life suddenly had a purpose: He would be a messenger. A guardian of the past and the stories it had to tell. And as Michael stared at the dark sea outside his window, he made a promise.

"I will always remember you, Blair." he whispered heavily, his hot breath fogging the glass of the window as he spoke. "I will memorialise your beloved face by putting your and Jim's image and your story in a book so that people all over the world will know that you once lived and walked on this earth. So that my mother in Heaven will be proud of the work I have done for you and for all the others who have suffered and died with you."

Then Michael closed his eyes and sleep finally claimed him.

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In Cascade, Jim's eyes closed heavily after the words "The End" and he took a deep breath. It was 4am and he couldn't believe that he had started and finished the book in one go. The Sentinel wasn't sure what had shocked him more about the story. The sadness of the events that had led Naomi to grow up in America, or the fact that one Colonel James Ellison, who also happened to have heightened sense, was Blair's great-uncle's best friend.

A friend to the death.

Jim's father had never told his son's much about their family relations but Jim was sure that it wouldn't take much research to find out that this Colonel James Ellison was is great–uncle who was listed as MIA in Europe at the beginning of the Second World War. Suddenly Blair's words from earlier sounded in his ears.

"This gives the theory of re-incarnation a whole new meaning, don't you think?"

Jim shook his head. These were still the contents of the Sandburg Zone and he was still not willing to go there.

But he had certainly taken one step closer.

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The End

**_DISCLAIMER - _**_Jim and Blair have not been harmed in the writing of this story. However their characters have been used to show the cruelty and inhumanity of ignorance, prosecution and prejudice. This story is dedicated to those who are willing to give their lives to fight against oppression and those who have done so in the past. May their stories guide us onto the righteous path._

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   [1]: mailto:%20czeevy@yahoo.com



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